The Calm Between the Storms
by Warden Nightingale
Summary: With the Blight defeated, Elissa Cousland and her friends take the time to relax. Aedan pops a huge, life-changing question, and Orlesians make attempts on the Queen's life. Talk about relaxing, right?
1. End of the Blight

_This is just what happened between the Blight and the events of Awakening. Not going to be very long. _

I...I can't believe it. I killed the Archdemon?

I blink, looking at my three friends crouched around me. Aedan's grinning, Leliana is smiling, and Alistair looks relieved. The battle still rages in the city below, but right now, I don't want to move. I just want to take it in, to get used to the fact.

The Archdemon is really dead.

I start laughing uncontrollably. I look at its body, where my sword is still lodged in its skull. Dead. Gone. Meaning if my count is right, there are only two more Blights. And then what? What do the Wardens do?

That shouldn't matter to me, though. I won't be around to see the next Blight. I'll have succumbed to my Calling and be long dead.

"Help me up," I say, throat dry. Aedan nods, getting to his feet before offering me a hand. I accept it gratefully and go back over to the dead dragon at my feet. I shake my head, laughing. "That fire? You missed." I grab the hilt of my sword and pull it free in a bubble of black blood. I return to my companions as I sheathe the gold weapon. "Well? There are still darkspawn to deal with, and we're still Wardens. Come on."

They nod, following me as I lead the way back down Fort Drakon. Few darkspawn are here, but those that are die quickly. They don't seem to put any effort into fighting with us now. As we burst from the base of the tower, we're faced with a small army of hurlocks and genlocks. A clamor rises from behind them. The Fereldans. My army. They've cornered the darkspawn in the courtyard. A grin works its way onto my face as the first Fereldan appears down the road. The rest of the army soon follows, charging up after the darkspawn.

"The Archdemon is dead!" I shout. I run to the side of the balcony, dropping over the railing. I pass the statue, drawing my sword once again. The three of them follow, Aedan and Leliana going around the other side. Alistair follows me, weapons ready.

"To the Wardens!" Cyrus shouts. He's somewhere at the head of the army, leading them through the gates of Fort Drakon.

And with a clang, the Fereldans slam into the outnumbered darkspawn for the last time today. The four of us leap into the fighting, forcing our way through to the army. Alistair watches my back the entire time while I watch his, casting spells on any darkspawn I deem worth the effort. I set a hurlock archer on fire and as it falls, I see a Fereldan soldier behind it. A Highever soldier to be exact.

Ser Gilmore.

A grin breaks out on his face and he salutes me before he returns to the fighting. His squad of soldiers eagerly follows, echoing his cry of "For Highever!" I shout it myself as I cut through the nearest genlock, taking pride in the rush resulting from the kill.

It only takes a few hours for the remainder of the darkspawn to be killed, and then when we're standing in the midst of the battlefield, someone starts cheering. The sound is contagious and quickly enough, the rest of the army does the same, screaming, whooping, clapping.

And then someone starts singing.

The Chantry is rarely sung, but they sing it now. It is usually spoken, read, and can take weeks to recite, but the soldiers sing it now with such utter conviction I almost cry.

_The Old Gods will call to you,_

_From their ancient prisons they will sing. _

_Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, _

_On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, _

_The first of My children, lost to night. _

Then they all drop to their knees, bowing. Everyone is down, everyone but us Wardens. The remaining four of us, spread out as we are. And then someone shouts something about the Fourth Blight, and the singing starts again. I know this song.

_The wind that stirs_

_Their shallow graves _

_Carries their song_

_Across the sands._

_Heed our words_

_Hear our cry._

_The Grey are sworn_

_In peace we lie. _

_Heed our words _

_Hear our cry. _

_Our names recalled_

_We cannot die._

_When darkness comes_

_And swallows light_

_Heed our words_

_And we shall rise._

They...they're singing about the Fourth Blight. The last, one of the worst. But something tells me the Fifth, this one, will be the best of a horrible thing. I kept it contained to Ferelden when there were three other Wardens in all of Ferelden. I killed an Archdemon a year from its rising. Compared to the other Blights, I made this look like a ridiculously long raid.

But I wouldn't have been able to do it alone.

As I look around, I feel a swell of pride for my friends. They're all bowing with the rest of the soldiers, but they shouldn't be. They helped as much as the rest of us did. They risked their lives for Ferelden, for Thedas, and no one is honoring them.

"The Blight..." Alistair trails off, looking to me.

"It's over," I breathe. "The Blight is really over."


	2. A Wedding

I wasn't very happy about wearing a dress, but my mother talked me into it earlier. When I arrived at Highever, I was snuck into the castle and put in the damn thing my mother had waiting. Some days I hate her.

"You look nice, sis," Aedan says. He starts to step around past me, but I push him back, crossing my arms. "What? I'm not allowed to...go that way?"

"No, and you know exactly why," I say.

"I do?"

I snort, pushing him away. "Yes, obviously. You can quit with the innocent act because I'm not stupid. Go...go stuff your face or something."

"Ooh, food sounds good actually."

I open my mouth when I realize he's right. "Yeah it does. Let's go!"

"To the larder! Where's Wolf?"

"He probably beat us there," I say, laughing.

"Damn dog," Aedan says, shaking his head. "Better have saved me some bacon."

"Ooh, bacon," I say. "I swear to the Maker, if that dog ate all of the bacon again, I'm throwing him out of the castle."

Aedan laughs, patting my shoulder. "Now you can't do that. He's a purebred mabari warhound. That's just cruel." I look up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Seriously consider it, brother," I say. "What if Wolf did eat all of the bacon?"

"I..." He pauses, looking up thoughtfully. "I would die."

"See? Told you." We both laugh as we head down the incline to the larder. Sure enough, there's barking and shouting coming from within. The both of us sigh as the door opens. The new cook, a very, very large and very, very round man, throws Wolf out.

Literally.

"You had better deal with your dog, Miss Cousland!"

"Or what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Or Highever will be feasting on a wonderful mabari steak."

Aedan covers his mouth to keep from laughing while Wolf scrambles to his...paws? The cook slams the door shut behind him and Wolf barks furiously, sniffing beneath the crack. He paws at the room on the other side, but someone sweeps the broom underneath and Wolf jumps so high I can't help but laugh. Aedan starts laughing, too. The mabari just whines plaintively, giving me his dog eyes.

"Oh no. I am not getting you anything else," I say. "Get your dog butt over here. We have people to talk to." He whines as he walks over to us, acting all depressed. I pat his head, whispering, "If you behave, we can go steal food later. Okay?" He barks excitedly, stubby tail wagging.

"Elissa?"

I look up, locking eyes on Alistair. I have enough semblance of mind to keep my mouth closed as I stare, but he looks like my staring is making him uncomfortable. Aedan taps my shoulder, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I'm going to go back to the main hall," Aedan says. He locks gazes with Alistair. "No grabby-grabby."

"No...what?" I ask, blinking stupidly. My brother laughs before walking away, whistling for Wolf to follow him. The mabari barks, running off excitedly. I blink rapidly before coming to my senses. "Don't go upstairs!"

"I won't!" Aedan yells back. "Maybe."

Scowling, I look back to Alistair. He grins at me, crossing his arms over his chest. "Uh...hi."

"Hello," he says. He tugs at the collar of his black shirt nervously. "Do I have to wear this?"

"Yes," I say, walking up to him. "You need to look nice."

"Ugh," he says, rolling his eyes while I reach up to fix his hair. "I don't even feel like I look nice. I feel like there's a Warden elbowing me in the chest while she messes with my hair!"

I smack his shoulder, frowning. "Oh, quit whining. If anybody doesn't look nice, it's me. I look absolutely horrible. I hate dresses so much it's not even funny."

Alistair snorts, frowning. "You don't look nice." I give him a what-did-you-just-say look, but he smiles. "You look beautiful." I roll my eyes, taking a step back.

"Shirt. Tuck it in," I command, gesturing at it.

"What? Not even a thank you?"

"Tuck your shirt in. Now." He sighs, doing what I said. I cross my arms, waiting somewhat impatiently, before he's done. "There. Now you look...you look like I should've made you king."

"Great," Alistair says.

I smile up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Better not let Anora see you. She'd think you were trying to take the throne from her."

"Because I'm dressed up?" Alistair looks bewildered. "I don't understand nobility."

"You look like you should be a king," I say absentmindedly, tilting my head to the side. "You have the face for it. You're a leader, too. All good things."

"But...usurping her a month after her coronation?"

"Stranger things have happened." I lean up to kiss him. My heart still flutters when he kisses me back, and his hands tighten on my waist. Alistair pulls me against him, hungry for the closeness. But I put a hand on his chest and drop back to my feet. "We have to make an appearance, you know."

"That doesn't mean I want to," he mutters into my hair. "Why? We're just Wardens."

"Because my brother is getting married and he's a Cousland," I say. "I'm the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and your my...man-friend. Our presence is demanded."

He snorts. "Man-friend?"

"Yep." I pull away from him, grabbing his hand in mine. "Come on. It won't be that bad. Think of it like a big party."

"I hate parties."

"You're going to enjoy this one whether you like it or not." I tug him after me, leading him to a side room.

"Nobody even knows you're here!" Alistair says.

"That's the idea," I say. "Leliana doesn't know I'm here. She wanted me to come, but I told her I couldn't because I was busy in Redcliffe. Then I contacted my mother and we came up with this over-elaborate plan to sneak me here. Aedan keeps saying I'm his surprise present to her."

"And you didn't expect him to do that?"

"You'd think I'd have learned," I say, snorting. "Twenty-three years with him, and I still know nothing." I shrug, smirking. "Anyway, we wait here for the next twenty minutes until they announce honored guests, and we go in last."

"We're seriously doing this."

I push his shoulder. "Leliana's like my sister. Is my sister. Whatever. But I wanted to surprise her, and that's what I'm doing. So you can either wait with me, or go make smalltalk with some Bann."

He groans, shaking his head. "No, I'm fine. I'll wait here."

"Are you sure? If you wait here, they have to announce your entrance with me."

He blanches, shaking his head. "No, I think I'll go chat with the Banns, actually. Maybe see if Fergus wants me to help him with anything."

Laughing, I shake my head. "You go do that." I give him a kiss on his cheek before he flees to the main hall.

_Excited? _Hope asks.

"Strangely, yes," I say, walking up to the nearest bookshelf. "I hated sitting at Fergus' wedding, but I get the feeling I'm going to enjoy this one." I put the book I grabbed back in place, moving down a row. "Maybe because I actually like who Aedan is marrying. Maybe because I know the person I'm going to end up dancing with. I don't know. I just am. Is there something wrong with that?"

_No, but I still think we should be in Kirkwall. _

"We're getting there, Hope," I say, pulling a book down. I recognize this one, its purple bindings and silver tracings. I put it away immediately. That brings back bad memories. "I promise."

_I don't find that reassuring. _

"Oh shut up," I say, sitting at a table. I cross my leg over my other and end up staring at the door impatiently for the messenger to come get me.

_I have a bad feeling about today, _Hope says.

"Can you not be pessimistic for the next few hours?"

_It is not pessimism. It is the truth, _she says. _There are some of Leliana's Orlesian friends here. There are important Fereldans abound. Orlesians and Fereldans do not mix well. _

"You think someone's going to mess this up?"

_I'm saying the Queen of Ferelden is here. It would be the perfect time for an Orlesian assassin to strike, _Hope says. _Perhaps you should put your armor on instead and watch Anora from a distance. It would be safer. _

"I still have time to," I agree, getting to my feet.


	3. Thanks, Orlais

I sprint back downstairs just as my mother's messenger is approaching the door to the room I was waiting in. He's holding something in his hand as I run down to him, and he offers it when I stop. A mask.

"The Teyrna said we should do this like Orlesians would," the man says. He even has a mask on himself, one that covers all but his mouth.

"Stupid masks," I grumble, accepting the one he offers me. I pull it on as he leads me towards the main hall. "What moron wears a metal mask? Dear Maker, this is horrible!" The man chuckles as he stops beside the open door. A few more people are in front of me, waiting for that fat guy to announce them. Anora is the last person to go before me, and at my clanking arrival, she looks back, confused.

"I was told you wouldn't be here," she says. She glances down at my waist, at the hilt of my sword. "Expecting something to happen?"

"There are Orlesians here, Your Majesty," I say. "It's not a bad idea with you here as well."

"They agreed-"

"The guests agreed," I mutter as the line moves up. "That doesn't mean they didn't hire assassins or plan on having their guards get into a fight with yours and then get you killed in the crossfire." I shrug. "Besides, I can't be bought like a guard can."

"You are very paranoid, Elissa."

"A bit of paranoia never hurt anybody."

"No, but walking in there with that sword will make it blatantly obvious you're expecting something to happen."

I roll my eyes before unstrapping the weapon. I hand it to the messenger who had run here with me. "Watch that for me. When everyone is seated, bring it through the back to me. Okay?" He nods, holding it in front of him. "Thanks."

"The Queen of Ferelden, Anora Mac Tir!"

"Don't get shot before I'm in there," I whisper.

"Very funny," she retorts before walking inside. People clap as she appears. I see her bow once before sitting in the front. Two guards immediately detach from their positions at the walls to sit on the ends of her bench. . She has them watching her already. She's not stupid.

The room bursts to life with that, people chattering and speaking, but the fat guy up on the dais raises a hand. "Be calm, good people! We have one more guest, one whose bravery made this all possible!" From that accent and stupid add-on, it's obvious he's Orlesian. I already don't like him. He waits for the room to fall silent, for all the people to lean forward so far they're practically falling off their seats. Ugh. Drama. I could use less of it. "The Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander Elissa Cousland!"

Kill me now.

I slap on a smile and walk inside, stopping in the same place Anora did moments ago. It seems like a longer walk than it should; the room is completely silent except for the sounds of my armor as I walk. I was clearly not expected to be here. I drop into the traditional Orlesian bow anyway. Screw all of them. I'll do whatever I want.

Just before I straighten, I hear someone slam their sword on their shield. One by one, all of the Highever guards do it, and I actually smile. Not the fake one I put on for show; a real smile. I don't know when the tradition started, but every time someone from Highever does something-something like killing an Archdemon apparently-the guards do that as a show of respect. And you know, I'm pretty sure that just made my day.

I walk back to where Alistair's sitting and drop down beside him before the clapping starts. Fergus is sitting on the other side of him and he looks at me now, eyes narrowed.

"You actually made it? I thought you were too busy to show up."

I grin, leaning back on the bench...thing. "What can I say? I like to surprise people and I like to make entrances. This accomplishes both all in one!"

"You realize Leliana's going to kill you as soon as she gets the chance, right?" Fergus asks.

"She doesn't know I'm here yet, so shut up!" I hiss. My brother laughs, shaking his head as he sits back.

"He's not joking," Alistair whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'm well aware."

* * *

Once the ceremony is over, we're all led outside of the castle walls. I see this is where it becomes apparent Leliana grew up in Orlais. A small field has been set up for people to play war games.

Dear Maker this is turning into an ordeal.

The messenger handed me my sword on the way out and I strap it on now as we walk, escorted by guards. Let's make this clear; I hate weddings. I hate all the ceremony and all the principle they stand on. I don't like formalities. That's why I still have no Warden-Constable or any real structure in the few Wardens Orlais has sent me.

"Warden-Commander," a deep voice says.

I turn to the man, forcing a smile through my teeth. "Hello. And you are?"

"I am Warden-Constable Blackwall of Orlais," he says.

"Really?" I ask. "Hmm. What a coincidence. I was just thinking about how I need to promote one."

"Is that so?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, removing my mask. I blink, shaking my head. "I hate those things."

He chuckles, pacing me as we walk. "I cannot say I blame you."

"Coming from an Orlesian."

"Just because I'm stationed there doesn't mean I am Orlesian."

"Either way I hate them so..." I shrug.

Blackwall shrugs back, looking ahead. We're at the end of the procession now, having walked much slower than everyone else. We stop on the hill to watch the guests continue on. "You are young by our standards, Commander."

"Twenty-three is young for a Warden?"

"Very much so," Blackwall admits, nodding. "It is uncommon for a Warden to be recruited at your age and survive the Joining."

"I find that unsurprising."

He smiles faintly, still watching the people in masks. "Even stranger for you to be made Warden-Commander when there is another who has been a Warden longer."

"Alistair did not want to be Warden-Commander and I was the one who killed the Archdemon," I say. "It's not so strange if you think about it."

"It is if the Warden who kills the Archdemon is supposed to die," Blackwall says, looking at me. His expression is tactfully blank, but it's hard to read him to begin with, especially with that beard.

"You know what, I think this conversation is over," I say, looking back to the Fereldans and Orlesians below. "Good day, Warden-Constable."

"Commander," he says before I pull my mask back on and start downhill.

Cyrus said the Wardens would come with questions. It seems Blackwall is only the first of many. Time to play stupid.

As I rejoin the group, Leliana and Aedan track me down. And even with that mask on, Leliana does. Not. Look. Happy.

"Morning," I say, searching the crowd. "Where's Anora?"

"That way," Aedan says before Leliana can start.

"Great, thanks!" I exclaim, running off. I push through the crowd, losing the two within seconds. I spot Alistair briefly, talking with Fergus and my mother about something, but I keep going, searching for the Queen. This is the first time I haven't been within arm's reach of her, and if someone was going to try something, it'd be now, when she's not surrounded by people to protect her. And I've been eyeing that Orlesian family all day; the one who always approaches her with guards in tow. The one that always seems to be lying through their teeth. I don't know how Leliana knows-

Maybe she doesn't know them!

I see a flash of blond hair in the mess and change plans again. I push through to Anora's side, stumbling into a man in black.

"Hello, dear," the Orlesian purrs. "Where do you think you're going?"

Fuck. Shit. Damn. I'm out!

I scramble to my feet, looking for Anora again, but the Orlesian just laughs. "Looking for your Queen?" I don't answer, so he grabs my upper arm to get my attention. "Your Queen will be dead momentarily."

Talk about direct!

I smack his hand aside and reach for my sword, but I see something silver flash out of the corner of my eye and drop to the ground instead. The swing misses and the crowd goes silent. I jump to my feet, grab the Orlesian guard-a Chevalier!-by the wrist, and flip him over my head, kicking his weapon from his grasp. Just to make sure, I kick his protected head before I whip around, looking for the Orlesian nobleman.

But he's gone.

"Protect the Queen!" Fergus. That was Fergus. I bolt, shoving people out of my way. I see more silver and leather just ahead. Guards and Chevaliers. No offense to the Highever men and the Royal Guards, but they're no match for a Chevalier. They're known for a reason.

I force my way into the fighting, stumbling into one of the Orlesians. We collapse in a heap and he throws me off-literally-before getting back on his feet. I rip off my mask as I get to my own, drawing my sword.

Now the crowd runs. Naturally.

The Chevalier covers himself with his shield, pointing his sword over the top at me. But I don't twitch. I stay in my defensive stance, staring him down.

"Fereldan dog," he spits.

"Oh, I am so going to enjoy killing you, Orlesian."

He just laughs, slamming the visor of his helmet down. "You are untrained and weak compared to me."

"I killed two high dragons, pal. You're a nug compared to that."

"On guard!"

With that, he charges, slamming into me with his shield. I flip off my feet, grunting when he steps on my chest. He's a fast bitch! Holy Maker!

As he swings his sword down, I bring mine up, catching his sword before it can hit me. I put all of my strength into throwing him back, but he recovers quickly, preparing for another blow. I only blocked one, and my arm already feels numb and broken. He brings his sword up above his head to drive into my chest, but I raise my left hand and blast him in the face with a spell. He stumbles off me and I get to my feet, pointing my sword at him. The Orlesian comes back at me with a wicked flurry of blows, all of which I block, dodge, or parry. I run his form through several times, analyzing his movements, looking for gaps in his defense.

Only there are none. They really are really some of the best soldiers in Thedas.

"Fuck this." I let Hope loose, and within two seconds, she's knocked him on his ass and killed him. In a blur, I throw myself into the fighting, stabbing one of the Chevaliers in the back just as he goes to kill a Royal Guard. I help the man to his feet before continuing on.

Some wedding we got going here.


	4. The First Chosen

_So this is my excuse for not putting Legacy into AoM. Never played it. So I'm making it so Hawke has dealt with it in Act 1 and now a certain darkspawn thing is in Ferelden._

"Commander?" I blink, lifting my head from my desk lazily. So tired... "Are you sure you're all right?"

I shake my head as I drag myself to my feet. "Just tired, Antoine." The Orlesian Warden nods once, holding the door to my office open for me. "So what is it? I was in the middle of something important."

"Like napping on the job?" he teases.

"Reading Clarel's whines aren't important," I retort. "Or have you forgotten who it was that told me that?"

He grins, leading me over to the gate of our hastily built outpost just south of Redcliffe. "Clarel is not my biggest fan, Commander. She figured sending me here would be punishment for being annoying, but it has yet to seem so."

"Yes, because I'm just as big a smartass as you are," I reply.

"See? I even made a friend in the Warden-Commander my first month here," Antoine says.

I nod, looking up at the Warden banners flying overhead. "So where are we going exactly? What did you need?"

He suddenly looks sad, very, very much so. "It...it was our last patrol sent towards the Wilds. Carol...she found their camp destroyed and covered in blood. She thinks it was darkspawn."

I raise an eyebrow and follow the Orlesian out, shrugging my cloak further over my shoulders. "She thinks darkspawn attacked the Wardens? But they were all experienced. I made sure I only sent more Orlesians out with explicit orders to keep watch rounds going. They should've been able to sense them!"

"That's why we brought this to your personal attention."

I snort furiously. "It should always be brought to my personal attention. These are my Wardens, Orlesian or not. I refuse to see them slaughtered like this."

Antoine offers a faint smile of reassurance. "Most of us volunteered to come to Ferelden and Clarel would only send Senior Wardens to begin with. They knew what they were signing up for, Commander."

"That doesn't mean I have to be happy about their deaths," I grumble. "I saw enough people die during the Blight to last me a lifetime and a half. I shouldn't be watching my own men and women die because I failed in chasing off the last of the darkspawn."

"You failed nothing," Antoine says, looking back at me. "You defeated a Blight before most of Thedas even knew what was going on. Darkspawn always linger on the surface after a Blight, anyway. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I didn't apologize for anything," I say.

"No, but you were getting there." He waves me on. "We should reach it before nightfall. We can rest there and investigate in the morning, Commander."

* * *

As the sun begins setting, I can see trees just off in the distance. The Korcari Wilds. Flemeth. Morrigan. Some awesome memories are resurfacing. Yay! Hooray for sarcasm!

Antoine keeps checking on me, but I keep my face blank and stare forward. If I let any emotions show, it's determination. Something is out here, killing or dragging off my Wardens. And that doesn't make me happy. Some of the ones that have gone missing were my friends, many who had served during the Blight itself, and now they're dead. Or worse, but I don't want to think about what 'or worse' could mean for them.

"Where's Carol?" Antoine says as we get close enough to see a small camp.

Or what's left of one.

"She's supposed to be here?" I ask.

"She came back, told me to tell you, and then said she'd meet us here," he says.

"And she's not here," I say.

Antoine nods, eyes full of worry. He runs ahead, scouring the ground as I come up behind him. He overturns everything, making a mess out of what was already a mess. Blood stains cover the short, grey grass, and the tents have all been smashed. While he loses his mind, I inspect the little he hasn't disturbed. That's when I spot the black pool I nearly stepped in. Curious, I crouch down as I draw an arrow and dip the broadhead into the liquid. I bring it up to eye level, turning it over and over.

"Darkspawn blood," I say, whipping my arrow off on the grass.

"So Carol was right," Antoine says.

"It's fresh," I say, nodding. "Hours old at the most."

The Warden jumps to his feet. "Then what are we waiting for? Come on!"

"Woah, wait!" I exclaim, walking a few steps after him. He pauses to look back at me, confused. "How long have you been a Warden, exactly?"

"Two, three years. Why?"

Sighing, I ask, "Have you ever seen darkspawn before?" He hesitates before shaking his head. "Fine. Fair enough. I guess they have been pretty busy over here anyway. But you need to understand, if there were enough here to outnumber seven Wardens, and then take another captive without losing one of their own, we're dealing with a lot. Too many to handle on our own. Darkspawn aren't very bright, but they're not dumb enough to not know how to overwhelm someone. They do it all the time, and no matter how easy they are to kill, at that amount-" I cut myself off, tensing.

"W-what is that?" Antoine asks, voice shaking. He swats at his arm, and then scratches it through his silver Warden armor.

"You feel like your skin is being pulled off? Like someone is tickling your spine?" He nods, smacking his other arm. "That, my friend, is darkspawn."

His eyes go wide with terror. "Darkspawn?!"

"Unfortunately," I say, reaching for my sword. I start to loosen it in its scabbard, but that's when I realize I'm not sensing hurlocks or genlocks.

It's shrieks.

I turn as a puff explodes beside me and I whip my sword through the cloud before the darkspawn can even materialize. Antoine screams in pain as I go to turn back to him, but something whacks the back of my head and I collapse.

* * *

Darkspawn, one. Elissa, zero.

Annoying little shits. There are so many of them nearby I feel like I'm back in Denerim all those months ago. Damn, they're still growing. This is proving to be a bigger problem than it should.

"What are you, Warden?" a deep, resonating voice asks. "Human? Monster? Abomination?"

I crane my head back off the wooden table my wrists and ankles are strapped down to. "Talking darkspawn?"

"I am more than darkspawn," the voice snarls. "I am a god."

"Good to know. Let me go so I can kill you already."

"I have died many times, Warden," the voice says. "I will never truly die. Gods cannot die."

"Everybody dies. You're a darkspawn. You'll die just like the rest."

"You are a fool," it says, now off to my right. It's too dark for me to see clearly, but from what I can see, I see a tall, twisted figure. "You cannot stop me. I was locked away in one of your prisons for thousands of years. My punishment for turning on the Maker." The shadow figure walks around to my feet. "One I see you avoided."

"Turning on the Maker?"

"What would you say if I told you the seat of the heavens was empty?" it asks. "That your Maker was gone? That your Andraste was nothing?"

"I'd probably laugh."

"You are like all the others," it says. "All stupid and foolish." There's a burst of light, but it's by my head. I flinch, looking away. It's green, almost like the Fade. "Except you survived long enough to become a problem." I look towards the voice, eyes widening when I finally see what has been talking the entire time. "You are a nuisance. You will be until the moment you die. I intend to hasten that."

"And you're asking me what I am? You looked in a mirror lately, pal?"

"I am Corypheus," it says. "The first man approached by the Maker to do His dirty work. And you can see what I got for refusing."

I struggle against the ropes holding me down. "You marched on His city! You attacked the Maker! What else did you expect?!"

"I expected to remove a god and to let man rule himself."

"And now you're one of the darkspawn," I say. "The First Chosen."

"And you are the First to Accept," Corypheus says, back to me. "But no matter. Your Maker will not save you now."

"Save me? From what?"

"From the end," it says.

_Ancient darkspawn! _Hope exclaims. _It's him! The one the Guardian was talking about! The-_

"We are not sticking around long enough to find out what he's doing," I snap quietly. "Nor are we sticking around long enough for him to try anything."

"I already have." Corypheus turns back to me, holding a strange black orb in his hand. It pulses the same green light I saw moments ago beside my head. "I just need the light of the heavens and everything will be complete."

"Too bad for you I don't know how to call it out myself."

"I don't need you to. I can." He walks around to my right and turns my hand over, exposing the eye burned into my hand. He places the orb there and its pulsing turns into a permanent glow. I don't know what he's doing, but I don't like it. As the light gets brighter, I start to notice the gold light coming from my hand.

Holy-

I pull up on my arm frantically, not sure what he's doing but not caring. If he wants the creepy glow from my hand, well then I'm one-hundred percent positive I don't want him to get it.

Then it starts burning so suddenly, so intensely, that I scream. My whole body goes rigid despite how desperately I want it to fight back, to do anything other than give in, but I can't move. I'm paralyzed no matter how many times I scream to start casting a spell, to thrash until the orb falls, but I can't so much as blink. The orb glows brighter with each second my hand dims, and I start feeling weaker and weaker in time with it.

I feel Hope slipping away.

He's taking Hope from me. He's taking everything the Maker gave me away.

Well, fuck that. I am definitely not letting him complete whatever ritual my hand has become a part of. I just need to find what happened to my mana. Now. I ransack every little corner of my head in a mad hunt, but come up empty.

"You lost," Corypheus says, taking the orb. It glows intensely as he turns his back on me, walking away. "You are nothing but an annoying Warden now." He looks up behind me. "You may have them all, children. I understand your need to reproduce after your defeat."

"Oh hell no!"

Now that the orb is gone, I can feel my mana and all the energy it offers. I ignite the ropes holding me down and roll to my feet, running after the darkspawn thing. The glow of his orb is fading as he walks away, but I catch up to him with every step, forcing the emptiness I feel to the back of my mind. Hope...her buzzing is gone. She's gone.

He stole her. He stole everything. He has it all in that orb now, and I won't let him keep it. I sprint after the magister, the one who led the rest of them into the Fade, and grab his arm, jerking the orb within reach. Without thinking, I grab it, and in a rush, everything transfers back in a burst, whipping me across the hallway. Corypheus yells in frustration while I recover, but by the time I have, he's gone, replaced by darkspawn. A lot of darkspawn.

But there's Hope's buzzing. And it's a relieved buzz.

I reach for my sword, surprised to find it waiting, and whip it free. I'm not going to be able to walk out of here.


	5. Nightmares

I fight my way up to a large center room with a vaulted ceiling. Piles of debris lay on the floor and there are holes in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to leak through. There aren't any darkspawn here, thankfully. My arms hurt from all the swinging of my sword. I'm exhausted. Countless hours, wasted on forcing my way upstairs and here I am, no darkspawn within sight. I can still sense hundreds of them beneath my feet. All ready to begin a raid too large for us to stop. I barely have enough Wardens to stave off a good bandit attack, and that's only because bandits have a self-preservation instinct. Darkspawn don't. They'll keep attacking until they're dead even if you cut their limbs off.

There's a freaking entrance to the Deep Roads down there! I saw it as I ran past, heard the anguished cries of darkspawn as something big ate them. Ate them. Ate darkspawn. What in the Maker's name eats darkspawn because it wants to?!

The ground rumbles beneath me. It sounds like drums. I hesitate, glancing between the exit and the stairwell that leads back into what I've determined to be elven ruins. I can either leave, or go see what's making that noise and attempt to find my Wardens. If any of them lived, that is. Some of them were women. Darkspawn need women to make Broodmothers. I'd spare anyone that fate if possible. I've yet to see one, but from Aedan and Alistair's descriptions, I'd rather be dead than end up that way.

Sighing, I creep back over to the stairs, peering down into the dark. The ground vibrates with each beat, but it sounds like whatever is making the noise is moving farther off, so I swallow whatever courage I have left and start back down. I breathe through my nose and flex my hand on the hilt of my sword the entire way down the spiraling staircase, but neither action does anything to calm my nerves. I'm on edge, waiting for something to jump out at me, and the worst part is knowing it will happen, just not when. It kills me the whole way, eating away at my nerves and mind until I'm nothing more than a husk with a sword that jumps at every little sound. I can't even see. That does nothing to help the terror spreading through my body, but if I can't see, then neither can the darkspawn. It's safer this way and I'll keep it this way until I find my Wardens. Problem being, it's far too difficult to differentiate between a Warden and a lone darkspawn, let alone the few Wardens that could be here and the hundreds of darkspawn.

Maker, if I make it out of here alive, the first thing I'm doing is taking a nap. I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and that's with all the tingly Warden feelings I'm getting from the stupid beasts.

_You got a plan? _Hope asks.

_Yeah, _I say, stopping to lean against a wall for support. _Find out whatever I can about Corypheus and his glowing orb thing. Find my Wardens and figure out the source of the drums. After that? Get out and sleep._

_Sounds reasonable, _she says thoughtfully.

"Glad you think so," I mutter, pushing myself off the stone. I stagger a step before regaining my balance and continuing on, tempted to use my sword like a cane. I don't, but the thought lingers, teasing and mocking me.

As I round a bend, I see light coming from a hole in the wall. Torchlight. Flickering, uncertain, and weak. Darkspawn grunt at each other as they go back and forth between here and what lies below. Some of them evidently don't come back; I can hear the screams of the dying ones again as the beast crunches on their bones. It's a sickening sound, just as sickening as it was to watch that ogre eat the child at Redcliffe. My stomach still churns at the thought of that, but since I haven't eaten in Maker knows how long, I couldn't throw up even if I wanted to.

I wait to see if the darkspawn will stop coming to and fro, but they don't, and I get the feeling I'm going to be fighting my way back into the rest of the ruins. Exhausted, I press on the wall and sag to the floor even though this probably isn't the best place to stop and rest. I should've just left and gone back to the outpost at Redcliffe. I could've gotten backup and raided the damn place, sealed the entrance to the Deep Roads, and been done with the problems here. But no, I had to be stupid and come back down without a second thought. And dammit, I am not going back up that staircase empty-handed. I'm leaving with something, be that another Warden or information, I'm not sure I necessarily care anymore. I just want to leave. I want to leave so I can sleep. I want to leave so I can eat. I want to leave so I can sleep beside Alistair again. I just want out of here.

I finish my break abruptly and get to my feet, silverite armor rubbing on itself. The noise is quite loud, but the darkspawn are grunting and growling at each other, and the drums still echo throughout the ruins, so whatever noise I make is drowned out.

That does not mean the darkspawn can't see me if I come running at them while glowing white. That's what I do because that's the only way I see myself making it through here and getting back out. I need Hope to get through this. She makes it so much easier to get through the twenty darkspawn that wait at the entrance to the Deep Roads, but it still drags on me, and there's evidence to my impeding collapse as I push my body through the hallway, opting to forget about the drums. That would mean going into the Deep Roads, and even with Hope, I'm not sure I could get more than a hundred feet or so before the darkspawn killed me.

_You know what, head back past the entrance. Hide yourself and rest. I'll keep watch. _

_Hope, that's-_

_That's the only way you'll have enough strength to keep going. So do it, or I'll make you. We both know you don't have what it takes to resist me right now._

Sighing, I concede. It's worse trekking back to the Deep Roads because there's a slight incline, but by the time I pass it, I've run through what surroundings I remembered, and I've got the perfect spot in mind. An alcove with a statue of an elven god, but from the amount of times I've passed it, I know there's a hollowed out area behind it, just barely large enough to conceal myself. It'll have to work though, because Hope is right. I need to sleep, or I won't be able to do much for the Wardens once I find them, dead or alive.

I pull my sword's scabbard off my belt and sheathe the weapon, holding it against my chest while I crawl around behind the statue. I tuck my legs in and set my sword across my lap, resting my right hand on the hilt, ready to defend myself should the need arise.

This isn't the most comfortable position, but it'll have to do, and I'll have to like it. I shrug my shoulders and pull my cloak around my torso, shivering slightly. I need the sleep, and this is the only place safe enough to risk it. Leaning my head to the side, I realize this is the first time in months I haven't slept with Alistair's arm around me, and the thought is unnerving. I have become so accustomed to him keeping me warm that I feel bare sitting here like this.

I know there will be nightmares. I'm surrounded by darkspawn and alone and scared. There's nothing holding them back.

* * *

I'm sitting on a horse, watching a battle between an army with the Seekers' symbol plastered to their banners and an army of what look to be Templars, but they all glow red, or have red lyrium growing from their skin. The army bearing the Seekers' insignia seems to be winning,and easily so, until a huge red beast storms from the center of the opposite army, roaring furiously. It swings its fist like a mace, knocking people thirty yards into the air and into their allies.

Something tells me to look back over my shoulder, so I do. I see another army, one with the holy eye on its banners. The same eye burned into my hand.

Two riders come up from the army of mounted men and women alike, both on Anderfel Chargers, Warden horses. The one on the left reaches me first and pulls off his helmet, frowning as he looks down on the battle. Aedan. His hair is as short as ever, blue eyes just as intent, and expression as dark as it always is before a fight. The other rider joins us shortly thereafter and removes his own helmet. Alistair. He looks like he just woke up from a nap and would rather go back to it than be here.

"Looks like they could use some help, sis," Aedan says.

"Yes," I say, totally unsure of why. I have no idea who 'they' are.

Alistair winces, pointing at the beast shredding the army in green and orange. "That behemoth is doing a lot of damage."

"The men can handle it," Aedan says, sounding completely confident of it. "They've been trained to deal with Red Templars."

"None of them have seen open combat though!" Alistair says.

"There's a first for everything," I say, shrugging. "Besides, we can sit around and do nothing, or we can do our damnest to finish off the Templars to make way for the change that's needed."

"Not to mention the Inquisitor is bound to be down there," Aedan says, still frowning. "And Leliana."

"See, Alistair? We have a sister to save," I say, "and orders to follow."

"I don't like it," he says, shaking his head.

"Neither do I," I agree. "But we have personal reasons to go down there and reasons the Maker has given us."

I'm not in control of what I do or say. Not at all. I don't want to go down there. I have no idea who is who. I don't want to see the thing Alistair called a behemoth up close. I want to stay back here and make myself remember this is a dream. I just want to wake up and make this end.

"What is that?" Aedan says. I turn to him and follow his gaze to three dots in the sky. Far off, flying towards us.

"I-"

My skin starts to crawl and my spine starts to tingle much the same way it did when we reached the top of Fort Drakon. Only this time it's amplified by two. Two. Two freaking Maker-damn Archdemons!

"Holy Maker," Alistair breathes, eyes widening.

"Andraste guide us," Aedan says.

I exchange glances with them. "I prayed at Kirkwall before the Qunari incident. I told him I wouldn't be around when he came back after the darkspawn were defeated."

Aedan snorts. "And there are two fucking Archdemons flying into battle right now."

Alistair looks nervous. "Wanna get Morrigan pregnant again?"

"Oh hell no!" Aedan says.

"Well then two of us have to die," I say, looking down at my hands. "Two of our Wardens are going to die."

"Or two of us."

I look back to what has shown to be three high dragons. My mind recognizes the center one even though I really don't. "Corypheus is with them."

"Two Archdemons, a Tevinter magister, and the start of two Blights all at once?" Aedan says, shaking his head. "Sounds about right for us." He draws his sword, grimacing.

"Three Blights in one age," I mutter. "Three in less than twenty years."

Alistair puts a hand on my shoulder while Aedan rides back down to the army, shouting orders for them to form up. I look back at him and he offers a reassuring smile. "We have the Hero of Ferelden, the Slayer of High Dragons. They don't stand a chance."

I return the gesture even though I know this is going to probably be the last time I see him. Like he said, Slayer of High Dragons. I'll kill one of the Archdemons and end up dead before the day is out.

* * *

_Wake! _Hope exclaims. _You have been sleeping far too long. The darkspawn are searching for you! _

_Great, _I grumble. I unfold my limbs and stretch as best as I can before crawling out. I stretch on my feet, too. Satisfied, I strap on my belt and draw my sword, yawning. I don't feel rested, but my muscles aren't burning anymore and I can think straight. The darkspawn are still making being here unbearable. So many...

Someone screams. A person. "Don't touch me!"

"Nobody is going to save you, Warden. Eat or die." I assume that whomever is talking to whom doesn't listen because the man resumes yelling. "Your Warden-Commander is dead! We killed her during the night! You are alone here! Eat or die!"

I start running toward the voices, hoping they'll somehow hear me coming. I go to pass the entrance again, but find it surrounded by darkspawn. Hurlocks and genlocks only, thank the Maker, but holy hell, there's enough standing there to raid a large town!

Well, if I'm going that way, I should probably attack them before they can figure out what's going on.

"Woah! Broodmother!"

Aedan?

"Aedan!" I shout. The darkspawn turn and snarl when they see me.

"Stay where you are! We'll come to you!" my brother shouts.

Andraste be praised; I thought I was going to die. I completely forgot he took a group of Wardens into the Deep Roads. I don't know how he got here, but I'm not going to question it. He's here, meaning he has Wardens, so I'm not going to be running after whomever that was alone.

"Holy shit, it spits ogres!" Aedan exclaims.

I barely have the chance to tear my eyes away from the hole leading into the abyss to focus on the darkspawn now charging me. The first to reach me is a genlock, but I whip my sword across its neck so fast that its feet keep running even though the rest of it doesn't follow. I blast five hurlocks with ice shards and they fall, creating a barrier between me and their friends. The ones immediately behind them trip, but the rest are smart enough to jump the bodies.

"Eat, Warden!"

That snaps me into a frenzy. Despite all the fatigue, I force my way through the darkspawn crowd. I hear Aedan and some others fighting down in the entrance, but I keep going, making my way towards the voices. The darkspawn follow me, matching my pace. I'm still faster, so much faster, and when I find a door with light coming from beneath it, I slam into it. The thing opens under my weight, revealing a very gruesome scene.

"Woah! Didn't I tell you to look in a mirror before calling other people ugly?" I gesture at the pink fleshy thing across from him. "I should've told that thing, too."

Corypheus snarls, raising his orb. "You will bow before me!"

The orb begins pulsating green light and my eyes widen. "On second thought, how about I just kill you?"

He laughs as the glow intensifies. Then it explodes in a burst, blinds me, and gives some big slimy thing the chance to throw me off my feet. I hit the far wall, knocking rubble off. A large chunk of stone hits my shoulders and forces me to the ground, pinning me. I'm back in the hallway now, looking down as my brother leads his Wardens through the mass of darkspawn. The instant he's free, he runs to my side, pushing the stone off my back.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" Aedan demands.

"You know how Wardens have been disappearing when I sent them out on patrol?" He nods and helps me to my feet. "I decided to come investigate with Antoine. We got captured and here we are."

"Well where are the other Wardens?"

"No idea. But that thing is one of the first darkspawn," I say, pointing at the monster with the glowing orb.

Aedan follows my gaze. "With a Broodmother, too. Great."

"That's what that is? Blech, I see why you and Alistair hate them."

Aedan shrugs. "So what do you say we go kill some darkspawn?"

I nod, grabbing my sword from where I lost it. "Sounds good to me, brother."


	6. Dragons

Aedan and I managed to distract Corypheus long enough for the Wardens Aedan brought to free the captive ones. Then the lot of us bolted, fleeing for the safety of the surface. I do a quick headcount as we run up the spiral staircase. Only two of five patrols are missing. That's better than I'd have expected.

We come out on the large antechamber with holes in the roof after nearly twenty solid minutes of sprinting. It's now nighttime and owls can be heard hooting in the rafters and outside.

"No darkspawn?" Aedan asks, taking a cautious step forward.

"Spread out, but be careful," I say. I draw my sword slowly in a weak attempt to make the scraping sound quieter. The few Wardens with weapons already have theirs in hand, but I've always found running easier when I don't have to worry about impaling myself with a pointy metal stick.

The Wardens do as told as we make our way across the domed room. Many are leaning on one another for support. The only ones that even appear uninjured are Aedan and I. And it's true; I'm not bleeding or bruised. I should be perfectly fine, but I'm not. I'm so tired and all of my muscles ache. I just want to crawl into a bed and sleep. I want something warm to cover me and to lay on something soft until the end of my shortened days. I just want it all to stop or to slow or to become bearable. This...everything...it's not.

"What is that?" Aedan wonders aloud, looking down at the floor. Drums. They've intensified. But then the sound changes as I'm about to answer and I close my mouth, creeping closer to the center of the room where the sound seems to originate from. Aedan does the same, sword drawn and at the ready. "I don't like this, sis."

"Sis?" I ask, almost managing a laugh. "You never call me that anymore."

He smiles faintly. "Maybe I should start again."

I return the gesture. "I'd like that, actually. Some semblance of normalcy."

Aedan and I reach the clear spot in debris at the same moment, both swords pointed down at the stone. The ground begins to shake violently the moment we stop and causes chunks of the roof to rain down on us.

Then I recognize the sound and my eyes widen. It's not drums. It's wing beats.

"Dragon!" Aedan locks gazes with me, horrified. "Back! Get back!" I yell the same phrase frantically, running backwards towards the huge stone doors at the other end of the building. "Run!" I grab my brother by the arm and pull him after me, looking back over my shoulder just as the floor explodes in a burst of cobblestone. Several Wardens scream in fear, mortified at the sight.

There's a dragon crawling out of the Deep Roads, lyrium growing from its skin. Red lyrium. Aedan and I have frozen, trying to figure out if it is an Archdemon, but it doesn't...feel like it. No, not an Old God. Just some freaky beast the darkspawn dug up for their new master.

"Is that-?" one of Aedan's Wardens shouts.

"No!" I reply. "But we still shouldn't stick around! Go!"

"Good plan," Aedan says, patting my shoulder.

"Yeah, like...now!"

The monster sweeps its tail along the back of the room, completely obliterating the structure. The ceiling collapses and flooring falls down into the abyss now apparent beneath our feet.

"Get out!" Aedan yells, pushing me at the doors. The two of us throw ourselves on them, using our weight to open the set. It's difficult and the doors are heavy, carved from solid stone. The hinges are old and frozen, almost entirely rusted over. "Help us!" In response, several Wardens out their weight into helping Aedan and I, but it's useless. The doors won't open fast enough for us to get away from the lyrium-encrusted high dragon. With just a quick check, I see it slithering across the room to us, lip curled in what looks like amusement.

"Run, Wardens. There is nothing you can do to save yourselves."

Corypheus.

Damn! I take a step back, surveying the walls for weak points. The dragon still shakes the building, but I spot a crack in the mortar ten feet to our right. I look between the others and the rapidly advancing dragon with its master before I blow the stone from its mortar. Nope. Not getting eaten. I'd prefer to _not _be a dragon-snack, thanks.

"Go!" Aedan exclaims, pointing at our escape route. The Wardens don't hesitate to follow orders. No one in their right mind would.

I'm the last out, more than willing to bring up the rear. The dragon stops, flaring its wings and roaring furiously. Corypheus and I lock gazes for a brief moment, glaring at one another, before I follow my Wardens into the Wilds.

* * *

Alistair was ecstatic when we made it back to the outpost. I'm pretty sure that's how everyone who just witnessed that felt. I know I did. Do. Still do. Whatever. I'm just glad to be safe. More than glad. I want to celebrate.

Celebrate with a nap.

"What's wrong?" Alistair asks. He pulls away from me as I stiffen, eyes downcast. "Elissa?"

I shake my head and grab his hand. "Come with me. Please? I...I need to...to go."

"Go? Go where?" he asks, confused.

"Away," I say in a clipped tone. Alistair just nods after a moment of debating and allows me to lead him wherever I decide. I'm not even sure where I'm taking him. Not until I see the barracks and the officer building beside it. I pull him across the walkway and inside the small building Aedan, Alistair, and I share. I lock the first door behind us, drag him into our room, and lock it too before kicking off my boots, removing my armor, and flopping onto the bed. When Alistair just stands by the door awkwardly, I sit up.

"What?" he asks.

"Lay down with me. Please?"

"What's with you and please?"

"Manners?"

"You're never like this," he says, repeating the process I just went through a moment or so ago. Once he's only in his cotton tunic and trousers, he hops onto the bed beside me, one blonde eyebrow raised. "Anything else?"

I look away, blushing slightly, when I say, "Shirt. Off."

He grins cheekily. "What? No 'please?'"

"No," I say, unable to meet his eyes.

Alistair sighs, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know, then. Maybe..."

"Please?"

"Your wish is my command," he says. He grabs the edge of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, throwing it off the bed. "Now...?"

"Lay down," I say. "Please." So he does, watching me carefully. But I don't do anything except lay down beside him. I curl against his side and rest my head on his chest with a sigh. I can faintly hear his heart beating rapidly, like it does when he's nervous. I keep my mouth shut, opting to put an arm over his torso. I feel like he can't leave now, and yes, I'm well aware how stupid that sounds, but it makes me feel better. Safer.

"What's wrong?" he repeats, concern filling his voice.

"Nothing," I say softly. "I just missed you."

He inhales deeply. "Something is bothering you. I can tell."

I stare at the wall for a while, thinking. Past his toes, past my toes, at the door. He's right and he knows it. Something is bothering me. Life. Everything. It's too hard for me to bear sometimes. The Blight only just ended five months ago and already I can't take all of these responsibilities. I have to deal with the First Warden and Clarel breathing down my neck. I have some sort of darkspawn incursion starting within a week's ride of Redcliffe. Orlesians tried to kill Anora at Aedan and Leliana's wedding a few months ago and have kept blaming it on Celene ever since, and I'm stuck in the middle of that because...I don't even know why!

"Elissa?"

I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut. "I'll tell you later. For now, I just want to sleep and tackle the world tomorrow."

"Fair enough," he whispers. "Go ahead and sleep. I've got you."

I didn't think those words could mean as much as they do now.

* * *

He wasn't planning on falling asleep. As a matter of fact, Alistair didn't even plan on ending up shirtless with Elissa laying on him. Then again, he never planned on being in the same situation he is. He hoped when he was younger he would grow up and find someone that loved him for who he was, bastard prince and all, but he never thought it would be the one person he could call a friend. She was the first friend he ever had and he's never forgotten it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to forget anything between the time they first met and the present.

Alistair blinks back the nap he just woke from, yawning and fighting the urge to stretch. He doesn't want to wake her up, not after what she just got back from. No, she needs the sleep and he knows it.

As he lies there, he notices that he's staring at the tip of her head, listening to her breathe. His eyes widen, totally taken aback by himself. He never stares. Does he? He tries not to. Alistair doesn't want to be caught staring at her. Aedan hates it when he does, and then Alistair spends the rest of the day feeling like he committed a sin. It took him long enough to understand since he wasn't under the Chantry's rule, he was able to actually _look _at women. He definitely does not want to go back to the time when just being within earshot of Elissa made him feel weird and blush. Alistair's rather proud of himself that he got past the awkwardness at all, but when he thinks about it, he does miss when he'd manage to say something that would make _her _turn as red as she could make him.

So Alistair allows himself to watch the older Warden sleep on him. He finds it amusing when her blonde eyebrows knit together like she's annoyed. Usually when he sees that she's annoyed at him even though Elissa gets over it quickly. He finds it a lot less amusing then. He's always nervous that spirit will snap on him. This is one of the few times he knows it won't, so he enjoys every minute of it, studying the face that rests on him.

He's dozed off again, barely fallen asleep, when she yelps and smacks him hard enough to force all of the wind from his lungs. His eyes snap open and he rolls onto his side, groaning and coughing.

"Oh, Alistair! I'm so sorry!" She rubs her hand across his back as she leans over beside him, a look of worry about her features. He likes the feeling of it, but he scolds himself the instant the thought crosses his mind. "Are you okay? I didn't hit you too hard, did I?"

He manages to laugh as his coughing slows. "You know, for a person as small as yourself, I'd think you wouldn't have enough muscle for that." She blinks, clearly unamused with him and herself, so he sighs, smiling. "I'm fine, Elissa. Really."

"Are you sure?" He sits back, nodding and revealing the red mark on his chest. She frowns, upset, saying, "Maker, Alistair. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, Elissa. Really, calm down. You just slapped me."

"But I slapped _you_!" she exclaims.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure we're even then," Alistair teases. "I did kick you completely out of bed the other day. Remember?"

The hint of a smirk crosses her face, but she doesn't allow it to show. "I left a mark, though..."

"You smacked me. It doesn't even hurt now."

"Alistair-"

A knock sounds through the building. "Message from Vigil's Keep!" Elissa and Alistair exchange looks before they both get up. Alistair leaves his boots and his shirt behind, but Elissa seems adamant about wearing shoes everywhere.

_Good thing she's not an elf, _Alistair thinks, smirking as she follows him to the door. He stands to the side as she pulls it open, blinking rapidly.

"Message for you, ma'am," the woman says. She hands Elissa an envelope stamped with a red seal. Alistair barely has the chance to recognize the griffon carved into the wax before the Warden tears it open, frowning again. "The Vigil needs your help, Commander."

Elissa scans the note quickly, eyes narrowed, and then tosses it to the side, right into the firepit.

"Let me get my brother. Meet us at the gates and we'll head out."


End file.
